This fall, though, is different, very different than I remember in a very long time. Over the last several weeks, my colleagues on the publishing side of the business have been saying that business is way off. The more I’ve heard this, the more I’ve wondered why. When it gets cooler, people tend to be inside and read more, not less. Why not this year?

The answer actually is quite simple—and very disturbing (at least to me). We are all reading about and watching what is going on in our very own reality show: the U.S. presidential election. We are doing this virtually in every spare moment. There are very few days that go by without a major development and I, for one, am afraid that if I miss one, the wrong candidate will win. We cannot stop watching and listening and, as a result, we have no time or interest for anything else. It seems that this phenomenon is especially true of book buyers.

As I said, this is a disturbing phenomenon, but the good news is that it will soon come to an end—our election is only two weeks away (thank goodness!). Hopefully, after November 8th, readers will be back in book stores, the first woman president will have been elected and our lives will return to where they were when all of this began. We can only hope!

Regardless of who you vote for in November, you have a responsibility to yourself and your country to be as informed as possible. First off, get your facts straight. It’s bad enough that politicians lie and conceal their meaning behind half-truths, but allowing yourself to be lied to is worse. Consult nonpartisan fact checking organizations to verify any and all claims. FactCheck and PolitiFact are both great resources, but there are others.

Second, read books about politics. Know the players AND the game. Here is a list of some of my favorites, in no particular order:

• On Democracy in America by Alexis de Tocqueville
• Team of Rivals by Doris Kearns Goodwin
• Republic by Plato
• Dark Money by Jane Mayer
• The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli
• The Federalist Papers by Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay
• The Fix by Jonathan Tepperman (just started but so far so good)
• The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. Du Bois
• The Wealth of Nations by Adam Smith
• The Clash of Civilizations by Samuel P. Huntington
• The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander
• Two Treatises of Government by John Locke

Some of these are difficult reads, but they should give you an outstanding foundation on which to approach political discourse. (And yes, I realize some of the above aren’t strictly about politics, but they’re relevant and revealing reads nonetheless.)

So now I ask our readers: What did you think of the first debate? What are some of your favorite political books?

Michael went for Ann Dee Ellis’ realistic YA novel THIS IS WHAT I DID citing it as “an amazing example of both voice and storytelling.” Unrelated: in looking the book up, I laughed out loud when I saw that the final line of the Booklist review, where they usually tell people whether or not the book is worthwhile, is instead a warning: “Caution: there’s a slang term for scrotum on page 1.”

Stephanie went with Garth Stein’s major bestseller THE ART OF RACING IN THE RAIN. When asked why, she replied, “Besides the fact that it made a bajillion dollars?” Fair question. It also is, “beautifully written, compelling, and accessible.”

Miriam chose Ann Patchett’s stunning novel BEL CANTO because she notes that besides being a “gorgeous writer,” Patchett always comes off as a sweet person. She then went on to name an author whose work she loves but thought might be super difficult to work with. I won’t name names. But it sounds like Shmonanthan Shmanzen.

It was Joshua Ferris’s THEN WE CAME TO THE END for Lauren.  She notes that, “Joshua Ferris’s voice and sensibility are very much in the spirit of the sort of accessible literary novels that I tend to go for on a personal and professional level.”

Me? I’ll pick two. It’s my entry after all. On the YA side, I’ll choose Stephen Chbosky’s THE PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER because it made me cry, it’s a true life story (which I’d love to find more of), and it’s the sort of novel you can imagine really being a life-changer for teens who read it. On the adult side, I’ll pick Gillian Flynn’s DARK PLACES because it’s a super-dark thriller with some really twisted stuff going on, and I can really get behind some bleak, bleak stuff.

Rachel also picked a book that made her cry: Ian McEwan’s ATONEMENT was the first book to make her sob uncontrollably. I will personally note that I don’t understand why the universe loved this book. I file Ian McEwan among those people whose work everyone but me loves, leaving me feeling a little dazed and confused by my own apathy. (See also: Spielberg)

Jane picked an altogether different type of weeper: THE EMPEROR OF ALL MALADIES by Siddhartha Mukherjee, a stunning “biography of cancer” that could have been dull or difficult or simply too dark to read if it weren’t for Mukherjee’s incredible compassion.

What about you, dear readers? Let’s say you could slap your name on some already published book and claim it as your own? What would you have chosen to write?

A few weeks ago I asked you all about your thoughts on books that reinvent some of your favorite characters, like Shakespeare’s Juliet. So when I read in the Guardian about a recent dispute centered around Sharon Dogar’s book Annexed, a novel that fictionalizes Anne Frank and, as the article put it, “should probably bear the subtitle of Peter van Pel’s Imaginary Diary,” I thought I would bring this to a blog vote as well.

Meg Rosoff makes the point that Anne Frank’s trust has every right to be upset (and says that is, in effect, what they’re supposed to do). She points out, however, that writers should be allowed to write whatever they like so long as they do it well, though she herself doesn’t approve of what Dogar is doing. I, too, feel uncomfortable with the notion of Frank being used this way. As someone who’s read and enjoyed one or two Philippa Gregory novels though, I wonder if this reaction is due more to who the fictional character is based on.

So now I turn to you for your opinion: Has Dogar done something wrong, or does she have the right to use Anne Frank’s history and make it her own?

Following up on my blog post from last week and based on some of the comments we received, I thought it would be an interesting exercise to ask our blog readers, men in particular, or the women who love them, what it is they’d like to see more of, and/or less of in the marketplace. Reader David Jarrett brings up a good point that a lot of what’s published today is derivative of other, successful books or authors, and often not even written by those original authors. But because they’ve become a household name, it’s easier to sell the “branded” version of an author’s work than an original work by an unknown writer. I read one of these for our work book club once, and I found it almost unreadable, lacking any depth or originality, a complete by the numbers exercise. It’s a frustrating thing that we are all forced to deal with, but it’s a reality of the current business model.

So I’d like to know what our male readers really want to read (which categories specifically on the fiction and nonfiction side), what they see lacking in the market, what they see too much of in the market, and what they would feel excited to spend their money on. I’d also like to see positive and negative examples of books they either loved or hated, and why.

Then if I (or any other agents here) sign a new project up that falls into these categories, I will gladly reference this blog post and let editors know there are lots of men out there who are excited to buy and read interesting, original, thought-provoking books in any number of categories, and we need to work harder to find them! As an incentive, I will choose one person who responds at random and send along a copy of a recent DGLM title. Thanks for taking part in our discussion, and in our ongoing effort to make the book biz a better place.

We have a winner from last week’s poll! At the end of the business day on Thursday, the author who had accumulated the most votes was K whose “I wondered if the girl at the front desk knew that things like me existed,” garnered a healthy 236 votes!

So K, bring it on! Send me your manuscript, and I’ll review it promptly.

Everyone else, don’t be discouraged if you weren’t chosen as a finalist or if you didn’t win. Do feel free to query me—there were lots of great entries!

There are several reasons I think the internet is made of magic. First, I put out a call for a first lines contest and ended up with 263 comments on the post (some of them were duplicates, but there’s no way I’m counting to find out the exact number of entries). Regardless, that’s a darned impressive tally. Second, some of them were great. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, when I posted the nine finalists, we got my favorite kind of response: anonymous snarkiness.

No seriously, I love the snarky. That the first comment asked me whether I chose the best or worst nine entries made me smile. Interestingly, someone else took the time to critique all nine entries. And while my first instinct was to rip them a new one, on a second read through, I saw that they actually made some thoughtful points, a few of which I didn’t disagree with. So I thought it would be fun/enlightening to go through and offer their critique along with my response to it as well as the entries themselves.

Before that, I want to take a quick moment to say thank you again to everyone who posted an entry. There were so many to choose from, and some really great ones slipped by. There are three in particular that I’m still mentally rotating with some of the entries I chose. A few commenters yesterday mentioned first lines that they admired: I’d love for you to share which you chose, and I’m sure the folks who penned them will be delighted to be discussed!

Now, on to the main event:

“The next time Hermes brought her back from the Underworld, Persephone wept tears of rage.”

Anonymous says: “Feels too close to pre-existing mythology.”

Jim says: Well…yeah. But I love this sentence. Not only am I a mythology fan, but I think there’s real room in the marketplace for more fiction based in Greek and Roman myths. Beyond that, the language feels nicely in tune with the subject matter but also feels effortless. And even if you know nothing about these gods, you’re left with a tantalizing question: why would someone feel rage for being taken out of hell?

“I saw her do it before she did.”

Anonymous wonders: “What does”it” refer to?”

Jim says: I don’t know. But I want to. This sentence hits a sweet spot between vague and specific that makes me ask a lot of questions. Not only what “it” is (which I assume will be answered in a later sentence), but whether this is about a main character with some sort of psychic ability, or if “she” may lack awareness of what she’s doing, in fact whether the speaker is seeing something that hasn’t happened or whether the subject is doing something without “seeing” it. It’s open ended without feeling clumsy, and it pushes me to want to know more.

“I’m pretty sure my sister had decided to become a pagan or a baptist or something before she offed herself so I don’t know why we were having a Catholic funeral.”

Anonymous feels: “”Had decided” versus “decided” and the second “or” with “something” dilutes the power of the sentence.”

Jim feels: I’m going to disagree completely on this one. The “or something” is completely crucial to the success of this sentence. It reinforces the narrator’s indifference to their sister making this seem that much more wrong in so many right ways. As for the “had,” I’d keep it. It feels right for the voice which is key in the first person. This line seems to be giving us a tough yet funny narrator who isn’t afraid to tell it like it is. I most definitely want to hear more from him/her.

“Homo sapiens sluttiwhen drunkus. The subspecies to which I apparently belong.”

Anonymous asks: “Am I the only one missing a verb?”

Jim says: I’m not going to lie. This is the only entry that I almost edited ever so slightly before posting. I would much rather the period after “drunkus” was a colon, making this one sentence, or really: setting it up as a single definition. A verb? Totally unnecessary. I let the punctuation slide because I laughed out loud when I read it. A lot of people tried to be funny. This represents one of the few who succeeded.

“There are four Captain Stupendous fan clubs in Copperplate City, but ours is the only one that doesn’t suck.”

Anonymous states: “Better stated if it didn’t start with “There””

Jim says: Huh? I don’t understand that comment. This was a triumphant entry. I never doubted its place among the finalists because it captures a voice. I can pick out the genre AND identify a likely speaker in under 20 words. I’ve said before that you can teach writing but you can’t teach voice. Happily, this author doesn’t need any help.

“I will never be Lady Hakebourn.”

Anonymous offers: “Okay, but classic problem”

Jim says: True. But there’s so much room to re-explore stories that have been told in new and exciting ways. I dig this because it’s simple and straightforward but also sounds as though it will propel the reader right into the story. I saw a lot of entries that touched on a pet peeve of mine: weather writing. I’ve mentioned it before, and I know that people will be able to come up with great examples of when writing about the weather has been employed to brilliant effect. Trouble is, too many people use rainstorms and cloudy days and whistling wind to set the reader up, and 99 times out of 100, it serves only to delay the opening and prevent the reader from being immediately engaged. Here, the author starts with a blunt enough statement that I feel as though I know the next sentence will build on it. It’s not going to be, say: I will never be Lady Hakebourn. It was a sunny day in June, and a warm wind was stirring up a dustcloud by the barn…

“I wondered if the girl sitting at the front desk knew that things like me existed.”

Anonymous queries: “Extraneous “that,” what is the “thing”?”

Jim says: I’m going to go 50% with Anonymous on this. I would absolutely agree that “that” is extraneous. Put a mental line through it. And now it’s a brilliant sentence. What is the “thing?” That’s the whole point! We want to know! Is this being narrated by a supernatural creature? Or is the protagonist just so down on him/herself that they identify as less than human? Like the second finalist, I love that this so fabulously nestles in that nexus between specific and vague.

“I’ve had five husbands; none of them were mine.”

Anonymous votes! “The one I voted for, even though it sounds kind of cheesy like Mae West. Best of the bunch.”

Jim says: Whether or not I think it’s the best of the bunch, I’ll never tell…at least until next week. I can’t agree with calling it cheesy, though. It’s tantalizing and vampy and intentionally provocative. Perfect employment of a semi-colon (brava!), and if you don’t want more specifics, you have less prurient interests than me.

“Thomas Buttermore was your typical left-coast college kid, raised on Twinkies and white guilt.”

Anonymous said: “This sounds more like a right-coastie to me. I don’t know any educated Californians who eat Twinkies.”

Jim says: Okay, Anonymous: that’s damn funny. But I still love this line. It’s got a nice little wink and a nudge going. It walks up to the line of gimmickry without crossing over it. And Thomas Buttermore is SUCH a good name for a character.

I asked for your first lines, and hundreds of you delivered. Now we’re down to nine finalists (the polling site wouldn’t let me do ten), and I’m asking you to do your part and vote for your favorite.

We’ll keep the poll open until 5:00 NY time on Thursday, and the winner gets their manuscript considered by yours truly.

And check back here tomorrow for more commentary from me on the contest; how I chose these nine finalists, what my first line pet peeves are, and other first-line-related shenanigans.

For the time being, remember to vote! Discussions of my choices are welcome. Feel free to tell me I’m an idiot if you dislike my picks, but remember to be nice to each other!

The biggest news in publishing this week is that the London Book Fair is barely happening because of cursed Icelandic volcano Eyjafjallajokull which, thanks to the NY Times, I can now pronounce!

But really, I can only say so much about that, so instead, let’s have a contest!

You’ve all surely heard that agents make decisions really fast, and if we aren’t entranced by your writing within 6.2 seconds or somesuch, we’ll just move on to the next thing. This is, for the most part, entirely true. So let’s see how quickly you can win us (and your fellow blog readers) over. Post the first line of your manuscript in the comments below by the end of the day on Thursday, 4/22. I’ll narrow it down to a select group of finalists, and then we’ll have a poll for you to judge who had the best, most intriguing first line.

The winner gets to have their full manuscript considered by yours truly. You don’t even have to query!

Bring it on! And in the meantime, enjoy this hysterical NPR link about mishaps that has nothing to do with anything.

Thanks to all who competed and voted in DGLM’s first competition!  Robert Kent (of Robertkent.net fame, naturally) is the winner of our contest and this pretty blue DGLM water bottle!

Robert’s winning entry in the hilariously bad titles contest was ATLAS HUGGED: A Guide to Encouraging Charity in Your Community. 

Congratulations also to runners up Scott Martelle’s TWEET JESUS: Bible Passages for the Twitter Age and D. Antone’s WHAT WAS THE NAME OF THAT BOOK? Everything Known and Forgotten about Alzheimer’s Disease.  Your prize is the (dubious) glory of knowing you made us laugh!

Robert, write to me at labramo@dystel.com to send your mailing address and claim your prize!